For Iryna Nakonechna, losing her left leg in a Russian missile attack that also killed her husband meant shedding her old identity entirely. The 50-year-old Ukrainian cut off her long dark hair, removed furniture, clothes, and photographs from her home, keeping only a portrait of herself and her late husband, Serhii Nakonechnyi. She described this transformation as necessary to endure the painful process of building a life with a prosthetic.
A New Persona Emerges
Today, Nakonechna is quick-witted and effervescent, with a loud, sudden laugh. She sports a pixie haircut and bold red cat-eye glasses, and spends hours knitting small toy capybaras—an animal that has become an unofficial symbol among amputees in Ukraine. Yet beneath her sparkle lies a deep grief woven into her reinvention. This unspoken reality contrasts with the narratives of resilience surrounding the tens of thousands of Ukrainians who have lost limbs since Russia's full-scale invasion began over four years ago.
“The hardest thing was accepting myself with these injuries, wounds that are not only physical,” she said. “Coming to terms with how much my life has changed has been very difficult.”
Rehabilitation and Daily Challenges
The exact number of war amputees in Ukraine remains unknown but continues to rise due to landmines, artillery, and missile strikes. This increase has expanded rehabilitation and prosthetics services while reshaping society, with prosthetic limbs becoming visible symbols of survival. Nakonechna still walks with a limp and uses a cane as she learns to trust her upper-thigh prosthetic. The airstrike also limited mobility in her arms, making it hard to lift heavy objects.
Her physical therapist, Anastasiia Stetsenko, says the next step is learning to walk without a cane. Nakonechna must build strength and confidence for movements like climbing stairs, squatting, navigating uneven streets, or chasing her 2-year-old grandson, Tymofii. Weekly hourlong sessions begin with removing her prosthetic and resting it against the wall. Exercises include lifting a plastic bar while breathing, rotating her amputated limb to improve range of motion, and squatting while gripping a ballet barre. “I will respond as my grandson would,” Nakonechna joked during one tough exercise. “Just no.” The two women often break into laughter, sounding like old friends.
The Day of the Attack
The attack occurred on March 5, 2025. After dinner, Nakonechna and her husband took an evening stroll near a hotel in central Kryvyi Rih. A Russian missile tore through the building, hurling them in opposite directions. Her ears rang as her husband screamed from several meters away. She pushed herself up, felt her left shoulder crunch, and reached for her left leg but couldn't feel it. They were taken to different hospitals, and her husband died the next day. “I never got to say goodbye,” she said. “I wasn’t even at the funeral.” Over the next two months, she underwent two surgeries a week. By May, she could finally sit up again, feeling relieved but knowing it was only the beginning.
Building a New Life
Nakonechna's apartment is now almost unrecognizable. “I had to get rid of everything from the past,” she said. “And focus on living my life, even if it was half the life I had before.” She invited her 77-year-old mother, who has dementia, to move in. Simple tasks like setting a pot of borscht on the table are no longer easy. She laments still being unable to lift her grandson. One day, Tymofii placed a sticker of a cartoon capybara wearing a prosthetic leg onto her own prosthetic, and she left it there. A meticulous craftswoman, she began knitting toy capybaras through Superhumans, a war-trauma center. Veterans started using the toys and stickers to put strangers at ease, and the capybara now symbolizes resilience and the determination to reclaim joy after devastation.
Nakonechna's toys quickly became popular, and she spends hours knitting them. Her favorite part is assembling the pieces at the end, when the toy becomes whole. “When I count the stitches, I think only about the stitches, not about the life that could have been and unfortunately is not,” she said. Recently, she marked a personal victory: wearing shorts for the first time since her injury. “I accepted myself as I am,” she said.
